


Bring Me the Dark

by AriMarris



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: (Mentioned) Jedi Princess Leia, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Praise Kink, Sith Luke, Slight Masochism?, Smuggler Han, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:51:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6634396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriMarris/pseuds/AriMarris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han raises the hand to his lips, kissing the back of his hand. His lips linger perhaps a fraction of a second longer than he knows they should but Han does not fear the wrath of the young prince, unlike so many others. He welcomes it, in fact, and goes to far as to grin cockily at the prince from behind his hand. </p><p>-----</p><p>In which Dark Lord Luke had a special mission for Han - now that he's succeeded, he gets his reward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me the Dark

“My lord.” 

Kneeling before the young prince of the Empire, Han Solo takes the bare hand offered to him by the man into his own. His fingers are warm to the touch. His hands are not a warrior's hands, but they are not an imperial prince’s either. They are soft, but sturdy. They have worked hard but have never known true battle. 

Han raises the hand to his lips, kissing the back of his hand. His lips linger perhaps a fraction of a second longer than he knows they should but Han does not fear the wrath of the young prince, unlike so many others. He welcomes it, in fact, and goes to far as to grin cockily at the prince from behind his hand. 

Han can hear the hitch of breath from the others in the room but his gaze does not stray from Luke Skywalker’s face. He is the only one to see the spark of amusement in Luke’s eyes at Han’s gesture. 

Pushing his luck, Han turns the prince’s hand in his own and presses another kiss to his palm. He makes the motion without breaking eye contact and a grin slides onto his lips when the temperature of the room immediately drops a few degrees. 

He doesn’t relinquish his hold, not on Luke’s hand and not on his gaze. It is a silent challenge and one that his Lord does not take lightly. 

“You are all dismissed,” Luke says softly. Han raises his eyebrows as the others in the room filter out and Luke’s lips turn up in a smirk. “Except you, Solo.” 

The door closes shut behind the last person, leaving the two of them alone in silence. Han finally raises to his feet before his lover and although he stands taller than the sith lord, Luke has always had a way of making him feel extraordinarily small. 

Han is given no warning before he is yanked forward, an invisible force dragging him towards Luke. Luke’s force hold is a strangely comfortable pressure, unlike that of Vader’s, and acts only to draw Han closer to the Sith. 

Luke wraps his arms around Han’s neck, pulling the smugglers head down just enough to connect their lips. Han more than welcomes it. There is a certain type of power in the kiss. While he is certainly not in control, one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy claiming his lips brings a rush of... exhilaration. 

Just as quickly as he had pulled Han towards him, Luke is releasing him and stepping away. Han doesn’t let the disappointment show but he’s well aware that Luke can sense it anyway. 

“My father is disappointed with you,” Luke tells him, as if Han couldn’t tell from the intercom call that had resulted in him nearly being strangled to death. Perhaps Luke didn’t know about that though - Han was positive the only reason he was still alive was majorly due to the affection that Vader’s son held for him. 

“I am aware,” Han replies as he rubs absentmindedly at his neck. If Luke notices, he chooses not to say anything. Instead, he sashays away, hips swaying in the dark clothing that accentuate each of his curves. Luke never cared much for the gaudy robes his father donned and Han is, in this moment, very glad for that. A smirk creeps onto his lips. “There was a slight delay in the delivery. The ship was raided by a rather... unwelcomed crew.” Even facing away from him, Han can imagine the grin creeping across Luke’s face. “But you knew that, didn’t you, my Lord?” 

Luke lets out a laugh.

“You need not be quite so formal, Solo. Father wouldn’t dare attempt to spy on me and I feel no other presence. It is just you and I,” he tells Han. His voice no longer holds the cutting edge that demands authority but it is powerful just the same. Or perhaps that power is held solely over Han. “There were no survivors amongst the raiders, I hope?

“Not a single one,” Han lies as he creeps towards the Sith. Not a single one was killed or even harmed, Han knows - but Luke does too. Everything always goes perfectly according to Luke’s plans.

“How tragic,” Luke responds as if bored. He turns just in time to come face to face with Han and instinctively raises his arms up to wrap around Han’s neck. Han responds by immediately pressing his face down into Luke’s neck, peppering the pale skin with a kiss for each day they had been apart. Luke continues, unfazed, “I was really hoping my message would reach Leia this time.” 

He receives naught more than a hum of acknowledgement from Han, whose hands have found his narrow hips and grasped them tightly. Han draws him closer. 

“You’re impatient,” Luke murmurs, drawing his fingers though Han’s hair a few times before suddenly knotting his fingers in the locks with an iron grasp. Luke does not stop Han’s ministrations but ensures that Han is well aware that  _ he _ is the one in control. He can feel Han’s lips curl into a smirk against his neck. 

It’s only when Han begins to suck gently at Luke’s collar that Luke tugs Han away from him with a hiss. Han would never dare actually leave a mark on Luke’s skin - even if Luke was above killing him (which Han has repeatedly bore witness to the contrary), he doubted he would be capable of escaping the wrath of Lord Vader, who is fiercely protective of his son. That doesn’t stop him from testing the water and pushing his limits though. Besides, the expanse of pale, unmarked skin is all too tempting to Han, like a blank canvas waiting for his lips to etch the prettiest pictures against it. 

Han cannot - and does not try to - deny the sparks of excitement and pleasure that jolt down his spine (and straight to his dick) at the sharp pain that accompanies the tug on his hair. Rather, he lets a moan escape his lips with no resistance, he eyes slipping closed as Luke yanks Han’s hair back. It puts a light, vaguely uncomfortable strain on Han’s neck as he looks up at Luke, but hey, the views not half bad. 

“You’re pathetic,” Luke murmurs but his tone is light and almost teasing and in the next moment, he’s kissing Han so hard Han swears he sees stars. He’s not really in a position to complain. Luke pulls him deeper, envelopes him entirely with his presence. Han has long since grown accustomed to it, but it makes it no less overwhelming, intoxicating, really. 

Luke’s fingers release his hair and in one fluid movement, his hands are ghosting over Han’s chest, nimble fingers undoing his jacket. He pushes it off his shoulders, guides it off his arms and lets it fall to a heap on the ground. Han’s shirt follows a few moments later. 

“You did so well on your mission,” Luke finally acknowledges, skimming his fingers across Han’s bare chest. Han shivers - both from the touch, so light it could be the force ghosting over his skin and the praise from his Lord. But then Luke withdrawals all too suddenly. He dances away from Han, just out of reach, and Han has to bite back his groan of disappointment. It doesn’t matter - even without the force, Luke can read him too easily. “I suppose you  _ do _ deserve a reward.”

Han licks his lips eagerly but does not move. He is too scared of being denied if Luke is not in a teasing mood. So he waits, half naked and ridiculously aroused before his lover while Luke appraises him with sharp eyes and then, 

“Undress me.” 

It’s a command and Han doesn’t mistake it as anything else. Nor does he wait for Luke to change his mind, instead jumping forward immediately to please his Lord’s whims. 

Unlike Luke’s, Han’s movements are not deliberate. He acts in haste and without and practiced expertise, despite how many times he has found himself in this exact position before. His fingers fumble to undo Luke’s belt but once it’s out of the way he’s able to untuck Luke’s shirt, his hands slipping beneath the fabric to rest on the hard muscle of his stomach underneath. 

Luke shoots him a look and he smirks as his hands travel upwards, dragging the fabric up with him. He pulls it over Luke’s head and presses a kiss to the man’s bare shoulder. Luke allows it, even going to far as to give a small, contented hum. 

Han returns his full attention to undressing Luke, this time dropping to his knees and tugs Luke’s trousers down with him, letting them pool around his ankles. Luke steps out of them, closer to Han. He immediately brings his eyes up to rest on Luke’s dick, half hard against his thigh. He longs to reach out, run his tongue along it, taste him as he brings Luke pleasure... But he does not dare to act on these desires until Luke has stated his permission. 

“Go ahead,” Luke finally encourages after a few moments. His hands find Han’s hair once more as Han eagerly leans forward. He dips down, taking the tip of Luke’s cock in his mouth and circling the tip with his tongue. A small, pleased noise escapes Luke’s mouth and Han’s dick twitches in interest. 

He doesn’t lift his hand, instead choosing to let his mouth do the work. And even at that, Luke freezes his movements with steady hands knotted in his hair and fucks his face. They’re shallow thrusts at first, agonizingly slow and taunting. Han tries, briefly, to speed up the pace by bobbing his head forward, but is met with a rough jerk on his hair as Luke pulls his mouth off of his cock with a quiet  _ tsk.  _

“Now, now, don’t be so impatient,” Luke chides casually. “You want me please me, don’t you?” 

“Yes, my Lord,” Han agrees immediately. Luke hums questioningly, as if deciding whether or not to believe Han. After a moment he pulls Han’s head forward once more and Han eagerly jumps to resume his job. 

Luke’s being lenient today. He allows Han to pick up at his own pace, to which Han responds perhaps a little too enthusiastically. His head bobs quickly, the wet noises filling the room. 

“You’re making me so happy,” Luke praises, absentmindedly carding his fingers through Han’s hair. The praise goes straight to Han’s dick, which has become rather uncomfortable hard in his trousers. He doesn’t dare touch himself, knowing it would be worth it when Luke decides to let him take care of himself. “Your mouth feels so good, Han.” They both notice the slip up but they’re far too occupied to react. “You’re so good at using you mouth, I love seeing you like this, so eager for me.” 

Han  _ moans _ , loud and desperate and eager around Luke’s dick. Luke grins at this then, without warning, drags Han’s face forward until Han is gagging around his dick, his nose buried in the blond curls. He holds him, watching as Han chokes, as tears springing to his eyes. He releases him suddenly, his length leaving Han’s mouth with a loud pop as Han gasps for breath. 

“Such a good job,” Luke hums. Sweat has begun to stick to Han’s forehead along with stray hairs. Luke pushes them back and then uses the force to drag Han to his feet. “You’ve worked so hard you deserve a treat.” 

Without making contact, Luke swiftly removes Han’s pants. He steps forward, close enough to be able to take Han’s dick in his, giving him a few rough strokes. The contact after so long of being denied is pure bliss. Then Luke is kissing him, pushing him backwards until the back of his thighs come in contact with one of the seats in the meeting room. They stumble backwards together, Han falling on his ass and Luke following, straddling him in a way that suggests only good things for Han. 

Something zips through the air, missing Han’s head by a fraction of an inch and flies straight into Luke’s waiting hand. He smirks down at Han as it clicks open and Luke proceeds to drizzle the clear slick over his fingers. One hand moves to rest on Han’s chest, supporting himself as he shifts forward, off of Han’s lap. 

Han can’t see what Luke is doing but after bringing Luke to bed so many times, there is little to be left to the imagination. He can practically see Luke’s fingers, slick and talented, working himself open digit by digit. It’s not hard to imagine, really, Han muses, as he watches Luke’s pale pink lips part in soundless pleasure. Small gasps escape him, his nails digging into Han’s chest as he throws his head back, revealing his delicate throat to Han. 

A thin sheen of sweat has appeared on Luke’s skin in the effort of preparing himself. Han can’t help but lean forward, dragging his tongue from Luke’s collar upwards, breaking off into peppering kisses as he reaches Luke’s jaw. 

The taste of Luke - both of his sweat and precome - lingers on Han’s tongue. It is only magnified when Luke decides he is quite ready and drags him down into a bruising kiss to mask their inevitable moans as Luke seats himself on Han’s length. 

He sinks down without the slightest hesitation and Han lets out a low groan into Luke’s mouth. He can feel the other man’s lips twitch upwards into a smirk as he involuntarily rolls his hips upwards. 

“Nuh uh,” Luke chides, leaving Han to whine when Luke breaks off the kiss. He raises his hips slightly, then brings them back down achingly slowly. “Patience.” 

“As if you’re the one to talk,” Han mutters back. His words fail to have any real venom in them, far too preoccupied by the pleasure when Luke decides to start rocking his hips. The movement is enough the he feels each shift but miniscule enough that it brings no sign of release. “I thought you said this was my reward.” 

Without stopping his teasing movements, Luke seems to consider for a long while and then his lips twitch upwards in yet another fic. “I suppose you’re right. I did say this was your reward.” 

Han - the scoundrel - smirks back, his hands finding Luke’s ass. He squeezes, pulling Luke up towards him and then lets Luke drop back down. He doesn’t try to hide his hiss of pleasure while Luke openly lets out a very pleased mewl. “Oh, so good-!” 

Luke lifts his hips before Han could try anything, setting his own rhythm. It’s not as fast as Han would like but it’s enough to give him the friction he desired. And he can’t lie - it’s a pretty good view of Luke from here. Luke riding him and moaning so carelessly will always be a favourite sight of his. Probably because he’s the only person who has seen it and lived. 

“Oh, Force, Luke,” Han gasps. It’s a small slip up - one they’ve both made - but Luke leans down and bites his shoulder reprimandingly, hard enough to draw blood. His yelp of pain is immediately cut off by a low groan of pleasure as Luke soothingly kisses the spot and then presses his face into Han’s neck to muffle his own noises. 

“Touch me,” Luke orders against his skin. 

He takes Luke’s dick in his hand, stroking it in time with Luke’s movements. He can feel the heat pooling in his belly, knows he’s near the edge as begins to buck his hips up to meet Luke’s. He murmurs and moans have turned into an endless, indecipherable chant of, “Luke, Luke, My Lord, Oh, Force-.” 

His release came all too soon and yet not quite soon enough. Han muffles his groan into  Luke’s hair, doing his best to bring Luke to his own orgasm as Luke’s movements shutter to a stop. He comes a few moments later, all over Han’s chest and into his hand. 

For a few moments, they remain in their position, Luke with his face still buried in Han’s neck and Han tracing soothing patterns with his fingers across Luke’s lower back. It is always like this after sex; blurred lines and soft edges melting together. It is the only time Han gets to see the real Luke, the vulnerable one that wants nothing more than- 

“I cannot wait for the Empire to fall,” Luke mutters hotly, angrily, and then softer, “You will still remain with me after?” 

“Of course, My Lord. You know my loyalty isn’t to the Empire, nor the Rebellion, but to you.” 

Luke hums and Han can feel his lips curl upwards into a soft smile against his skin. “I love you, Han Solo.” 

“I know.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this sin, you filthy sinners. I am too though. And I did Sith Luke like this to retain some of his character?? if that makes sense haha.  
> also if you want you can follow me on tumblr [here](http://sunshiningstardust.tumblr.com/)


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